


Like Dust

by purplelacemoon



Category: Billary - Fandom, Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-02 22:36:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12735684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplelacemoon/pseuds/purplelacemoon
Summary: November 9th 2016 // November 9th 2017





	1. Like Dust

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote most of this last week on November 9th, when I woke up and started thinking about that horrible day and the concession speech. I couldn't get this idea out of my head and I wanted to post it on the actual day but I didn't quite get the chance to finish it in time so I'm kinda late actually publishing it! It's only short, but I hope it reads as more hopeful rather than sad, especially with a full year between then and now.

Black, grey and purple fabric all hit the floor, and Bill quickly swept the garments away into the laundry basket knowing full well that neither of them needed to see any further reminders of where they had just come from. He put a pot of coffee on in the kitchen and drummed his fingers against the worktop as he waited for it to brew, longing to fill the silence somehow but knowing better than to turn on the television or radio.  
  
He could hear his wife shuffling to the closet upstairs and he tried not to let himself think about how his heart ached for her, for his country, for his family, but more than anything for _her_. The woman he loved with his whole soul who had poured every ounce of herself into serving the country that she loved, only to have it so virulently slapped back in her face again in such a brutal stinging loss. He could hardly bare to think about how she might be feeling yet despite his best efforts to distract himself, it was almost impossible to think of anything else.  
  
Bill pulled two mugs from the cupboard and filled them with the warm, steaming liquid as the aroma of the coffee beans flooded his senses and cleared his mind of everything else for just a short tranquil moment. As he reached for the sugar and lifted the lid of the container, the mid afternoon sun caught the light of the dust he had unsettled there, swirling through the atmosphere cascading aimlessly like the blizzard of an invisible storm which very much mirrored the way he too felt. His thoughts returned to Hillary upstairs as he stirred the sugar into the drinks and he knew she was feeling every bit the same.  
  
From the moment they had stepped through the front door everything seemed to be moving in a kind of jet lagged fashion, as though they were slightly out of sync with the rest of reality and reduced to completing simply the most basic of tasks, if only to maintain some kind of focused grip on normality. Get changed. Coffee. Toast maybe.  
  
Everything else could wait.  
  
Bill added creamer to the coffee then carefully picked up the mugs and went off in search of his wife. After checking several empty rooms he found her standing in the middle of their dining room, now dressed in yoga pants and one of his old dark blue fleeces. Their two dogs were scurrying at her feet and eagerly looking up at her but she seemed slightly lost in a daze, staring at the mantle at nothing in particular until Bill made her aware of his presence and she turned to face him.  
  
_“Thanks”_ was the only word she managed to utter as Bill handed her the steaming beverage. A small, hollow voice that sounded a million miles away from her own usual confident and so self-assured tone.  
  
They stood there each sipping their drinks in silence for a while, Bill hesitant to push her to say anything yet but simply yearning to provide some level of comfort. Anything to help ease the aching pain he knew she was drowning in but he felt helpless in the knowledge that there was little he could do to shift the burden that now lay weighted on her shoulders. A burden she never deserved to have to carry in the first place.  
  
He knew she was exhausted and badly needed to sleep, but for some reason she seemed to want to do anything but. Bill watched her trail from room to room, absentmindedly tidying things around and occasionally bending down to pet their dogs who were following her, acutely aware of her pain. At one point she stepped outside and silently breathed in the cold, rainy air, allowing it to wash over her body and provide a brief respite of relief before the bitterly unforgiving reality came crashing down around her all over again.  
  
Bill tentatively asked her several times to come to bed and rest, but she continued to make excuses until finally Bill gave up asking. He knew she needed her space to process things on her own time and he held fast to the hope that as she always had done before, she would come to him when she was ready.  
  
It wasn’t until a couple hours later that he finally walked into the sitting room to find her curled up half asleep on the floor, presumably unintentionally as she looked anything but comfortable with her upper body half slumped over the couch and her head resting against the edge of the cushioned seat. It tore Bill in half to see her so utterly defeated, and he quickly rushed to her side and knelt down on the floor beside her. He gently removed her glasses, which were slightly squashing against her face where she was nestled against the couch, and he cradled her in his arms as she began to stir awake again, unsettled as the deep sleep her body so needed to succumb to still evaded her.  
  
“Bill-" She reached out to him groggily and he quickly took hold of her hand, rubbing her back and shoulders in large soothing circles as she blinked slightly disorientated at her surroundings.  
  
“Shhh it’s okay, I’ve got you, I’m right here. Why don’t we get you somewhere more comfortable baby?”  
  
Hillary shook her head, still half asleep and with all her defenses down after hours of holding herself together with so much strength, she finally began to cry.  
  
“I-I don’t want to go to bed- don’t want to go t-to sleep yet.” Her voice was broken up by the sobs racking through her body and Bill held her even closer, stroking her hair and breathing in the sweet fading strawberry scent of her shampoo.  
  
“If I go to sleep,” Hillary continued, in barely a whisper this time as she settled into Bill’s arms. “If I go to sleep then- then when I wake up this will really be all the more real and I just- I-”  
  
She broke off into tears again and Bill whispered comfortingly in her ear, finally understanding what she was avoiding and his heart breaking all over again along with hers.  
  
“We don’t have to go to bed yet Hilly. We don’t have to do anything at all we can just sit right here, for as long as ever you want.”  
  
Hillary nodded against his shoulder, tears still spilling down her face which Bill gently wiped away with his thumb as he cradled her, hoping the sheer emotional toll of the past 48 hours would finally take effect on her body and give her the peace she so desperately needed, if only for a little while.  
  
It wasn’t long before it did. Hillary finally fell too tired to fight against it any longer and with the soothing reassurance of Bill holding her, she slowly drifted off into a deep sleep.  
  
Bill watched as all the pain and worry gradually faded from her, temporarily boxed away as her subconscious took over and allowed her pause to rest and to breathe. He held her tightly, softly kissing the top of her head and taking in just how completely vulnerable she looked in that moment. Hillary Clinton the politician had been defeated, shattered before his very eyes leaving behind only Hillary Rodham to deal with the aftermath. _Hillary Rodham._ His brilliant, bright, and wonderful girl. The same girl who had taken his breath away from the very first moment she had introduced herself in the Yale law library over forty years ago, so full of confidence and a smile that lit up from the inside out. The same girl who had left behind everything she knew to stand beside him as they took a vow to cherish, honor and love each other as husband and wife. The same incredible girl who had carried their own precious baby girl, created with him a piece of his heart he never even knew he had been without until they had brought her into the world together. The same endlessly loving, kind-hearted, fearlessly compassionate girl who had laughed with him and cried with him, held him through sickness and in health and supported him through good times and through bad just as he always had and always would do for her.  
  
Hillary Clinton was still in pieces on the floor, but he knew that one day soon she too would build herself back up again. Slowly but surely reassemble all the broken pieces back together and rise up stronger than ever once more.  
  
But not tonight.  
  
Tonight, all she had left in her to be was Hillary Rodham. Bill would have been perfectly content if that was the only version of herself she ever decided to be again. If all she wanted to do for the rest of her days was to live them out quietly and privately with him and the rest of their family, then he would be right there with her every step of the way. But he knew her inside and out far too well for that to be the case. She still had so much left to give to the world, so much good left still to do and as she healed, he knew the fight and fire would return and flare up inside her once more. Her light once again leading the way for so many others, shining into the uncertain future they now found themselves in.  
  
That light may have been dimmed to almost nothing in that moment, but nobody held the power to extinguish it completely.  
  
And through the dark of winter as the frost slowly thawed into spring and the sky overhead gradually lightened, so too would she.  


 

> _You may write me down in history_  
>  _With your bitter, twisted lies,_  
>  _You may trod me in the very dirt_  
>  _But still, like dust, **I’ll rise.**_
> 
> _\- Maya Angelou_

 


	2. Like Air

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this was meant to be a oneshot but I was struck by inspiration for an unexpected second part while I was watching Hillary's event appearances from that day. I'm not entirely happy with it but if I put off posting this any longer then it's going to end up being next November so I'll let you guys be the judge!

 

 _Did you want to see me broken?_  
_Bowed head and lowered eyes?_  
_Shoulders falling down like teardrops,_  
_Weakened by my soulful cries?_

  
**November 9th, 2017**  
  
Bill sat alone in the comfortable living room of their Chappaqua home, a bowl of almonds perched on the arm of the couch next to him which he occasionally delved into as he carefully booted up the laptop. The computer and Bill Clinton were not frequent friends, as he preferred to stick to printed media and reliable pen and paper for the majority of his news sources and correspondents. But certain things were well worth making the exception for, and this was definitely one of those times.  
  
He diligently followed the instructions from one his aides which he had perfectly memorized, loaded up the correct webpage, and waited somewhat impatiently for the screen to load, all the while drumming his fingers against the side of the couch as he watched the repeat cycle of the little buffering symbol.  
  
A moment later the website came to life, filling the room with cheers and applause all the way from Milwaukee as the audio booted up just in time for him to hear the all important opening.  
  
“It is such an honor to introduce to you; Hillary Rodham Clinton!”

  
_____________________________

  
  
Hillary stepped through the front door of their home just before midnight, exhausted but still feeling the buzz of exhilarated energy from being back in the spotlight and on stage. The audience response to her event in Milwaukee had been overwhelmingly supportive, and combined with the warmth and natural rapport between her and Bradley Whitford conducting the conversation, the evening had been so enjoyable that she had almost forgotten what day it was.  
  
Almost.  
  
The house was dark and silent, and so Hillary tiptoed through the kitchen as quietly as she could to fill a glass of water to take up to bed with her. She didn’t want to risk the disturbance of switching on the lights so she reached up into the cupboard and brought down a glass by feel, successfully filling it from the refrigerator water cooler without making too much sound. Unfortunately in the careful process she managed to knock to the floor a container of dried fruit and nuts which had been left out on the counter, cursing under her breath and almost losing her footing completely in her valiant efforts to try and catch it before it came crashing down and made too much noise.  
  
“Are you trying to break the other toe as well?”  
  
Hillary whipped around in surprise and switched on the light to find her husband standing there, leaning against the door frame and watching her with a big grin on his face that melted her heart in an instant.  
  
“I thought you were asleep.” Hillary returned the fruit and nut container to its place on the counter and folded her arms, raising an eyebrow at him while unable to stop herself from returning his smile.  
  
“I wanted to wait up for you.” He crossed the floor and approached her from the other side of the kitchen. “Y’know I watched your interview.”  
  
“Yeah?” Hillary drew in a breath slowly, gaze locked on his every step until he reached her and wrapped his arms around her waist and she swayed against his movements. “What did you think?”  
  
Bill said nothing but leaned in and connected their lips, lingering slightly longer than one of their usual greeting kisses as his tongue swept across her lower lip as they pressed softly together.  
  
Hillary’s cheeks were flushed pink by the time they pulled apart, enhanced by the stage makeup still adorned on her skin and highlighting her natural radiance under the warmth of the kitchen lights.  
  
“Hmmn…that good huh?”  
  
She let out an adorably playful chuckle as Bill grinned back and mesmerized blue eyes took in every inch of her anew. Her blonde hair seemed even more divinely soft than usual, freshly blow dried and slightly ruffled from its immaculately sprayed style since resting against the plane seat throughout her journey home. Her lips still held a faint hint of the glossy pink they had been adorned with on stage that night, sparkling every time she smiled and the crescent white of her teeth had caught the light. And the warm turquoise fabric of her jacket was hugging her so figure perfectly, outlining the shape Bill was more in love with than ever as he ran his hands down from her waist to rest upon the curve of her hips.  
  
Hillary bit down on her lip as she felt his hands begin to wander, but when his gaze lifted back to find hers again she was caught off guard by the raw emotion she found settled there, reflected in the glassy sheen of unshed tears.  
  
“I’m so incredibly proud of you baby.” Bill whispered and she smiled back at him gratefully, seeking out the comfort of his hands around her waist and resting her own over them as he continued, “I know today can’t have been easy for you.”  
  
“Honestly…I’ve really given far less thought to what day it is than even I expected.” Hillary cast her mind back for a moment to the morning she had conceded; one year ago to the very day. Admittedly it still hurt to think about, and yes it still filled her with a longing that things might have been different, if only she’d _just_ managed to work out some way to overcome the forces that were against her, however vast and insurmountable they had been. But it no longer filled her with the same sense of hopelessness and despair that it once did, and perhaps more importantly, she no longer felt tied to that moment as the end of her legacy, or indeed as the end of _her._  
  
Bill read all of these thoughts so clearly in her eyes without any need for her to vocalize them, and he brought his hand gently to cup her cheek until she spoke again.  
  
“Maybe being so busy helped, but I really do feel firmly rooted in this chapter of our lives now. And after the results yesterday, we finally have back that sense of renewed hope in future chapters for the country too.”  
  
“You know I’m in awe every day of how you’ve gotten back up after this.” Bill stroked his thumb against her cheek, completely lost in her gaze for a moment. “In awe, but not surprised!” He quickly added and she laughed with a grateful smile.  
  
“Thank you honey.”  
  
Hillary was fully aware of just how much her getting through this had meant to him too. She knew how much it had hurt him to see her hurting at her lowest, utterly defeated and wondering whether it would be best if the world just never saw or heard from her ever again.  
  
But Hillary Rodham Clinton never had been one to just go quietly into the night.  
  
Bill had stood by her day after day while she gradually put herself back together again. He’d been there for her to lean on when she needed it, to hold her when she cried, and to talk and to listen to her as she tried to make sense of it all. He had watched over the weeks and months as her smile became less and less forced and more and more real again, genuine laughter echoing from her causing his spirits to soar with joy rather than his heart to break as he registered the carefully concealed pain behind it.  
  
All of that pain she had embodied and the carefully constructed smile she had worn that fateful day had slowly melted away, filling and strengthening all the cracks that had been seared through her until she stood more gloriously unbroken than ever.  
  
Watching her shine tonight had served as a valuable reminder of just how far she’d come, seeing how beautifully free and at peace with herself yet still fiercely passionate and determined she truly was on that stage. How loved, not just by him, but by millions of others she really was, no matter how much certain powers would try and convince the world otherwise. Her voice mattered, _she_ mattered, and she wasn’t going to stop mattering at anyone else’s insistence any longer.    
  
Bill had seen her put up a front plenty of times over that past year. He’d watched time and time again as she stepped out in public in those early months, masking her face with a smile to grin and bear it just as the watching world both expected of her, while simultaneously hoping that she wouldn’t. Still hoping they could catch her out, make her cry, watch her crumble.  
  
But she hadn’t.  
  
They had kicked her while she was down just as ruthlessly as they had kicked her while she was up, but not for one moment did she ever lose her grace or allow bitterness to swallow her up. That just wasn’t the game as she played it, and one of the many, many things Bill loved and admired in her so very much.  
  
Now she didn’t have to fake it anymore. Her smile was wholly hers again and her hope renewed along with it. Bill knew he couldn't have felt more completely proud of her if he tried.

He slipped his hand across her lower back and brought their lips together once again, closing his eyes and inhaling the sweet scent of holding her close and safe back in his arms. Hillary responded to the kiss, abandoning her glass of water and rubbing her hands slowly along his back as they pressed together, the perfect fit they always had been.    
  
“Let’s get you upstairs.” He murmured against her ear, hot breath tickling her skin and she shivered against him in anticipation.      
  
“Mmmh, I like the sound of that.” Her eyes sparkled as she smiled back up at him, her touch sliding down his arm as he held out his hand to aide her in her step considering the constraints of her boot. Hillary leaned against him as they walked, fingers interlaced and giggling sweetly coated whispered words to each other as they made their way to the bedroom. Hand in hand and stronger than ever, irrefutably in love and each always holding the other up far higher than any of the arrows that inevitably tried to hit them down. 

 

> _You may shoot me with your words,_  
>  _You may cut me with your eyes,_  
>  _You may kill me with your hatefulness,_  
>  **_But still, like air, I’ll rise._ **
> 
> **_-_ ** _Maya Angelou_


End file.
